


pretending to be good

by MerelyLies



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Dark!Michael, F/M, dark!eleanor, grey!eleanor, grey!michael, not really romantic in anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:16:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerelyLies/pseuds/MerelyLies
Summary: Eleanor and Michael struggle to become better.
Relationships: Michael (The Good Place)/Eleanor Shellstrop
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11





	pretending to be good

He wasn’t what she had always thought the devil was like.  
She watched him try to hide it. He wore his suit like an armour, his bowtie always bright and vibrant, his hair styled to an inch of perfection. He joked, and chatted, and blustered around in the same way he thought humans did, covered his bad bits with odd habits or terrible hobbies.  
But when he reached out and touched her, she could not help but flinch. His skin was cold to the touch, almost like a snake’s. He would always look at her then, hurt and confused, but this only shattered the illusion even further.  
The hardness in his eyes had never softened. 

Chidi was chattering away about philosophy, staring at his chalkboard as he drove himself in vicious, confused circles. He had strayed from the point almost half an hour ago and seemed to have forgotten that Michael and Eleanor were there at all. They were leaning over a textbook, hair brushing together, and their cheeks lit up in the same sick glee.  
They were adding to the trolley problem diagram in thick red pens, drawing crushed bystanders and angry red eyes on the driver. Michael drew a moustache on him, and Eleanor chuckled and added a pointed little beard.  
She glanced up at Chidi, who was still harshly ruminating and turned her head slightly towards Michael.  
“What do you really think about it, though?” She said softly. He frowned and returned her gaze.  
“About what?” He asked. His icy breath tickled her cheek slightly, and she swallowed harshly.  
“The trolley problem.” She whispered, and he nodded and turned to stare at the book, head tilted.  
“Well,” he muttered. “They’re all going to hell anyway. Who cares if it’s a bit early?”  
She felt a smile pull itself across her cheeks, surprising her. She turned to gaze at the book as well.  
“I meant, who do you save?”  
He hesitated, and then let out a breath.  
“I don’t know, Eleanor. I find it hard to care.” He said quietly, voice vulnerable as if he were revealing a dirty little secret. She just nodded.  
“Me too.”

She was trying to learn how to be better. She smiled more and offered hesitant kindnesses. Chidi thought she was doing well. Michael knew better.  
They would meet in his office often, sipping vinegary wine and venting over the events of the day.  
“And then Jason told me his school taught maths by playing Tetris, and that’s why he’s so good at sex.” Michael laughed, Eleanor giggling along with him. Her cheeks were flushed with pink, drunk and gleeful.  
“So, what did you say?” She asked, trying to take another sip out of her empty glass. She shrugged and picked up the bottle to swig out of that instead.  
“I asked him which piece was most like his penis.” He said joyfully, head titled back, and eyes scrunched together. Eleanor snorted, trying to imagine Jason’s face at that.  
“And?”  
“He frowned for a little bit and then said the block.” He told her and they both looked at each other with cheerful confusion.  
“Oh, Jason.” She laughed, sitting back in her chair and propping her feet up on the desk. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, both gazing up at the ceiling thoughtfully.  
“Michael,” Eleanor said hesitantly, and he snapped his gaze back to her. “Do you ever think…”  
“What?” He asked once it was clear she was struggling to continue. She gazed solidly at the wine bottle, her mind whirling around.  
“I’ve just been wondering, lately, what the point is.” She admitted.  
“The point of what?”  
“Trying to be good.” She said quietly, and Michael nodded slowly. “Like, I know Chidi and Tahani and even Jason are, like, good inside. But us,” here she slowly sought out his eyes. “we’re not quite like that, are we?”  
“We’re not?” He asked, trying to swallow past the sudden thickness in his throat. She shook her head slowly, brows furrowed.  
“Don’t tell me you don’t feel it. When you do good things. When you try to act kindly or do things that are probably the right thing to do.” She said, her voice laced with steel.  
“Feel what?” He asked, but he already knew.  
“Like it’s just an act.” She said softly, her face pained.  
“Well, yes, but that’s what we’re doing, isn’t it.” He asked her, feeling almost desperate in his conviction that she was wrong. “Act good until we are good.”  
“But we’re not good.” She argued harshly. “We will never be like them. All of them, they all had something. Tahani had her fame, Jason had his friends, Chidi had his books. They all had something in their lives that they loved.”  
“What do you love?” He asked, and she stared blankly at him.  
“Nothing at all.”  
He nodded, slowly, and poured himself another glass of wine in the silence. She was still looking at him, her face almost desperate. He took a deep sip and then sighed.  
“Me neither.” He confessed, and her face fell slack instantly in relief. “But what else can we do?”  
“Be bad.” She said, her face now flushed in conviction. He sighed and sat back.  
“Well, we’ve done that already. Might as well try this out for a bit.” He said quietly.  
“I can’t do this.” She said, her voice breaking. “I don’t want to.”  
“What else can we do?” He asked again, his own voice thick with emotion. “Be bad – and do what? Torture Chidi, Tahani and Jason? Do you really want to do that?”  
“No.” She admitted, and he nodded.  
“I could cancel this whole thing. We could all go back to the real bad place. You and the others would end up being tortured forever.” He told her. He wondered, absently, what torture they would choose for Eleanor.  
“And you?” She asked, looked up at him through her slightly wet lashes. He let out a gruff laugh.  
“And I would spend the rest of eternity like I spent the first part. Bored and alone.” He admitted, and she opened her mouth to disagree and then instantly shut it.  
“Why has it got to be so hard?” She asked and he closed his eyes in pain.  
“It’s the way of the universe.” He said, a bleak smile stretching over his face. “But we have to do this, Eleanor.”  
She looked for a second like she might argue, but then let out a huff of air.  
“Yeah, I guess.”

He didn’t see as much of Eleanor after that. She kept to her house, rarely going anywhere she was likely to see him. He didn’t mind. Her words were constantly in his head.  
Logically, he thought his plan was the right one. He had grudgingly read the textbooks and listened to Chidi’s impassioned explanations. He knew people were more complicated than good or bad, and he saw that more than anywhere in Eleanor herself.  
She seemed so inherently dark. He saw it in her mocking gaze, in the way she rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, any time she infected conversations with her bitter sarcasm. But this darkness felt so good.  
He liked their silent exchanges, enjoyed their whispered insults. He liked the way she would light up in the presence of her friends, stealing away their warmth. He liked the way that she alone knew exactly what he thought of different philosophies or moral stances because she thought the exact same thing.  
It was nice, after so many millennia, to feel a little less alone.  
Despite this, though, he really wanted to be good. He wanted to be admirable, righteous, the sort of person people saw as a pillar. It was so very human to want someone to look up to, and so very appealing for them to be looking up at him.  
He needed to try at the very least because he knew. Knew that if he and Eleanor continued any further down the wrong path, then the others would be doomed to a life of misery.

She quickly stopped avoiding him, bored by his absence. They spoke slightly awkwardly, both worried by the other’s reaction. Still, it was good to be on the same team.  
She was getting restless. In her life on Earth, she had rarely stayed in one place for very long. She had always enjoyed flitting from place to place, never getting too tied down.  
Now, it seemed she would be trapped in this pseudo paradise forever. How very fitting.  
She and Michael were both getting better, studying dutifully under Chidi’s watchful eye. Their textbooks remained unmarked and became well-read. Slowly, her kindness was becoming more instinctive. She wasn’t sure if it was from genuine belief or just muscle memory at this point, but it made Chidi grin widely.  
Sometimes Michael would smile as well, and it made her stomach twist into knots.

“I guess we’re really doing this.” She said to Michael absently. It had been weeks since their conversation, but he knew what she was talking about instantly.  
“I guess we are.” He replied. They were sitting eating froyo, looking out at the artificial setting sun. He turned to look at her face, coloured red by the hues of the sky. She looked as much of a demon as him. He kept that thought to himself.  
“At least we’re in this together.” She said solemnly, her voice slightly choked. He nodded, feeling traitorous tears building in his eyes.  
The ultimate hell for Eleanor Shellstrop had not been one of his design but had clearly been just as effective. An eternity of being pretending to be good. And he was trapped right alongside her.


End file.
